He said something in a rush on the phone then hung up. Using the phone, he pointed at me. “Not appropriate.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “None of this is appropriate. I shouldn’t even be here. You shouldn’t be my doctor. We could be in bed right now.”
He sat in the chair I’d vacated. “Do you want me to call another physician. It’s probably what I should have done it to begin with.”
“Fuck no. At least you’ve known me outside this place. I have a chance to convince you that you’re holding me prisoner.”
He folded his lips into a thin line, and a part of me felt guilty for pushing him. He’d made his stance clear. Another part told me to push harder, make him see the truth, that him finally learning my name was my only hope.
“No, this is wrong. I should have stepped away as soon as I realized who you were.” He put his back to me, and it felt worse than the guilt and reproach combined.
I went around him so I could see his face. “Please don’t. I promise to behave myself. Absolutely nothing inappropriate. Don’t leave me alone surrounded by strangers.”
He looked like he wanted to reach out, but held himself back. “I’m a stranger too.”
I rolled my eyes. “Stranger strangers.”
That earned me a smile and a chuckle. “If you let me help you, I won’t be a stranger,” he said.
All trace of humor disappeared. I turned to the door and looked back. “You’d be something worse—my doctor.”
Chapter Six
Ash
Idreamt about her. Probably not a good sign. I knew I should let her go, find a new job, or her a new hospital. Yet the fact we slept together only made me want to help her more. As if the time we spent together had been some sort of catalyst.
Fate? But I didn’t believe in fate.
I threw back the covers ignoring my morning wood. There’s only one woman on my mind, and it wouldn’t be right to think of her that way. Something I needed my body on board with as soon as possible.
I showered quickly, too tempted, to focused on what could have been.
Yeah, if you weren’t such a fuckup and had a tuned radar for the wrong woman every time.
It was always wrong. This time it wasn’t just timing or circumstance, but ethics. And sure, I already had her, my body knew what I was missing every single day. It became harder when she presented herself, inviting me to do what I already wanted to do so very badly.
I pushed thoughts of her away and put singular focus into my bagel. Bite. Chew. Don’t think of her. Drink. Bite. Chew. Anything but her.
On the drive, I made a decision to do what every doctor before me failed to do. I was going to diagnose her. Help her. She’d never had a normal life. Maybe once she was healthy, she could have one.
Not with me though. I pushed that possibly out of my head and started formulating a plan. First thing I needed was all her medical records and notes.
I requested anything the nurses had as I passed the station. Back in my office, I dug out what I’d already seen from the ancient filing cabinet. Could I get records from any other hospitals she’d been in? It would likely require me asking her to list them and explaining why. Or it would require another call to her mother. Which would be worse to me. Kory’s mother was a fearsome woman, and she made it clear she didn’t want to hear from me again.
One of the night nurses dropped off a file before leaving, I opened it to read what they thought of my troubled patient. Skimming the pages, I sighed and closed the file. It held nothing but regular vital stats and Kory’s scheduled meal times, not helpful at all.
I went back to the file from my drawers and settled in. I wanted to make a timeline first and see what I faced.
Twenty minutes later, I was even more confused than when I’d began. She’d been on so many different medications and with so many different diagnoses.
A patient with a different diagnosis wasn’t uncommon, but usually, the confusion had some sort of comorbidity. Depression and anxiety usually go hand in hand. But major illnesses like schizophrenia and hypersexuality paired themselves with a smattering of other illnesses.
I made the decision I’d been wrestling with since I first opened her file.
I sucked in a breath, forced it out, and picked up the phone. I dialed a number from memory. I’d seen his name earlier in the file. A woman answered. “Hello?”
“Can I speak to Doctor Zeus please?”
